


i'm waiting

by trufflemores



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 3.23, Angst, F/M, Finish Line, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 11:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11012166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/pseuds/trufflemores
Summary: 3.23.  Iris finds The Flash.  She's still looking for her Barry.





	i'm waiting

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my Tumblr page, specifically my "Flash meta masterpost" and "Barry vs. The Flash" subcategory, for a more complete understanding of this fic. 
> 
> In essence: Barry and The Flash are two distinct entities sharing the same body. Barry represents the human half; Flash represents the Speed Force half. Flash appears as a ghost in disembodied moments (i.e. without Barry) and can shapeshift into any Barry it pleases. "Echo" explores this concept in greater detail.
> 
> This fic serves as a companion piece to "find me." It is not necessary to read find me first.
> 
> Enjoy.

“I dream about you.” 

Iris sits with her back to the dusk-lit big oak and closes her eyes.  “You’re still so beautiful.  You’re happy, too.  You’re finally happy.” 

Tracing a hand affectionately across a patch of grass, she adds, “No one deserves to be loved as much as you do, Barry.  I can only hope the Speed Force loves you half as much as we do.” 

Closing her eyes, she steadies herself for a moment.  Opening them, she resumes.  

“I want to send you letters you won’t be able to read.  I reread your texts.  A lot.  Whenever I need a pick-me-up, or just – a reminder that you’re there.  I call you just to listen to your voice mail.  I even switched our pillowcases.  Sorry.” 

Breath hitching, she whispers, “It’s not fair.” 

Brushing the grass, she repeats more firmly, “It’s not fair, Barry.  We were finally happy.  Why can’t we be happy together?” 

Thunder growls low, a distant tiger sound.  She actually smiles, reaching up to brush her face free of tears.  “Hi, baby.” 

A shadow sidles into view, settling against the tree to her left, perpendicular.  She speaks without turning to look at it.  “It’s been a week.  It feels like a year.  Or a century.”  The shadow does not shy when she reaches out and clasps a suddenly solid hand.  “This is what it’s like for you all the time, isn’t it?  The waiting.” 

Barry – a much older Barry – appears in the shadow’s place.  He shakes his head slowly. 

Iris rests her head on his shoulder.  She can feel him breathing, slow and even.  He doesn’t speak.  They both close their eyes, sharing space.  Filling conversation with their presence. 

At last, Iris opens her eyes, watching the sunset.  She can’t help but ask, “If you were never struck by lightning, would you have ever told me?” 

The older Barry blinks and looks over at her, questioningly.  When it clicks – _would you have ever told me how you felt?_ – he reaches out and clasps her hand with his left one.  A wedding ring presses against her palm.  She can’t help a teary-smile.  

“Our vows were beautiful,” she tells him, “in my dreams.” 

He squeezes her hand as if to say, _Our vows are beautiful_. 

“You have someone to go home to.”  A so-so half-nod.  Iris reaches up to tangle a hand in familiar still-soft hair, peppered with gray.  He looks right at her.  His eyes glow faintly gold.  “Do you miss her?” 

Barry nods solemnly.  _Every day_ , his golden, puppy, wonderful eyes say.  _Every day._  

“I miss you, too,” she admits, and she cups his face and presses their foreheads together.  “Every day.” 

Thunder rumbles again.  Barry doesn’t get up, but he twitches mildly in her grip.  “It’s calling you,” she muses, “isn’t it?” 

Barry nuzzles her nose.  _So are you_. 

Iris gives the back of his neck a gentle squeeze.  “Go,” she tells him.  “Go home.” 

He leans against her with soft insistence.  _I am home_.

Iris brushes a kiss against his temple.  “Run, Barry.”  She whispers into his hair, “ _Run_.” 

A flash of golden light joins the next rumble of thunder.


End file.
